


Sweet Spell

by ominousunflower



Series: Holiday Kiss [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Halloween, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-31 19:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ominousunflower/pseuds/ominousunflower
Summary: Luka gets a Halloween visit from Chat Noir—and this black cat isn’t leaving until he gets something sweet.“Des bonbons ou un sort!” Chat sings, grinning. “I hope you still have some candy?”Luka raises an eyebrow. “Where’s your costume?”“I’m a cat. Isn't that obvious?”“That’s a little uninspired.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine
Series: Holiday Kiss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556269
Comments: 25
Kudos: 477
Collections: lukadrienforthesuperheroes





	Sweet Spell

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN, Y'ALL!!! A few weeks ago, I decided to write something fluffy to make up for all the angst and hurt/comfort in _Out of the Rain_. So, here's a surprise one-shot! :) It’s the first in a new holiday-themed series I’ll be doing, separate from my _Missing the Third_ series. 
> 
> And as usual, translations are at the end! However, the one you should know ahead of time is “Des bonbons ou un sort!” (sometimes “un bonbon”) which is a French version of “Trick or treat!” It basically translates to, “Candy or a spell!”

It’s nine o’clock at night when the last group of costumed children leaves the Liberty. Luka smiles and waves as he watches them go, his fingers stiff with black and white paint.

Unlike much of France, the Couffaines like Halloween. It’s well-known that dark and gothic things are their aesthetic—so what better holiday than a scary one with ghosts and ghouls, zombies and vampires? And of course, Anarka has never been one for tradition. While some Parisians say that Halloween celebrations are disrespectful to La Toussaint, Anarka wholeheartedly embraces the holiday.

As in past years, the deck has been transformed into a sinister space. Black fabric is draped across the boat, and sickly green lights glow in the corners, casting a ghoulish glow on the area. And scattered around the boat are fake spiders, zombie hands, gravestones, grim reapers—along with several fake weapons that, on second thought, might be real and probably shouldn’t be near children.

Like some people who leave their Christmas trees up until the end of January, Luka’s mother will probably neglect to put away these decorations for several weeks, carrying Halloween well into the Christmas shopping season.

Humming to himself, Luka grabs a broom and begins sweeping up debris. Over the past few hours, children’s costumes have shed streamers, threads, other tiny pieces, accidentally littering the houseboat’s deck. Tonight was the busiest night Luka can recall: he must have handed out candy to at least a hundred children. Of the two giant bowls he started with, one of them is completely empty.

That’s one distinctive feature of the twenty-first arrondissement: the children in this part of Paris love to trick-or-treat. In other arrondissements, the practice isn’t nearly as popular; most people dismiss it as a stupid American tradition. Luka fervently disagrees with those people, of course—not that he would ever start a fight with them. They’re entitled to their opinions.

Somehow, as Luka cleans, the theme from _The Nightmare Before Christmas _gets stuck in his head, and he ends up humming most of the soundtrack. He supposes it’s fitting. He _is _dressed as a skeleton, after all.

With the deck swept, Luka grabs the full bowl of candy and carries it below-deck. The houseboat is quiet—Juleka and Rose have gone to a house party with their friends, and Luka’s mother is out celebrating with some of her fellow musicians. Luka expects he’ll have the place to himself for the next few hours.

As Luka sets the bowl of candy on the kitchen counter, he thinks he hears a light tapping noise. He pauses, straining to listen. A moment passes, and then he hears the sound again: knuckles knocking on glass.

Although Luka’s not one to get overly excited, he can’t deny that he feels a tiny flicker of hope at the sound. It’s not that he expected his favorite superhero to visit—but if there was ever a time for a black cat to be slinking around the Liberty, it would be Halloween.

Luka turns and glances at the nearest porthole window. Sure enough, a familiar face is pressed to the glass, his fingers curled like a cat’s paw as he moves to knock on the window again.

Biting back a smile, Luka crosses to the window and pulls it open. “Salut, Chat Noir.”

“Des bonbons ou un sort!” Chat sings, grinning. “I hope you still have some candy?”

Luka raises an eyebrow. “Where’s your costume?”

“I’m a cat. Isn’t that obvious?”

“That’s a little uninspired.”

“Well,” Chat says, huffing. “Not all of us are experts at spooky skeleton makeup. That’s a nice costume, by the way—I almost didn’t recognize you. I was wondering if I had the wrong houseboat.”

“Merci, Chat,” Luka says. Silently, he wishes he had gone with something a little sexier. He doubts he’s very attractive with black-and-white makeup caked on his face. After hours of wear, it’s starting to itch a little, and Luka wouldn’t be surprised if the paint has a few cracks. “Oh, and feel free to come in. I’m just cleaning up.”

Chat slips through the porthole and gracefully lands on the floor. “In my defense,” he says, following Luka to the kitchen, “black cats are a signature symbol of Halloween.”

“Not very scary, though,” Luka comments.

Chat groans. “I’ll never understand French people’s obsession with scary Halloween costumes. What’s wrong with going as something cute?”

Luka presses his lips together and laughs. Because, well—yes. Chat is very cute. Then again, he’d probably be just as cute with zombie teeth or fake blood smeared on his face. His charm is hard to suppress.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Luka asks, moving behind the kitchen counter.

Chat hops onto the green barstool at the end of the counter. “I’m good,” he says. “But tell me, monsieur—what’s it going to be? A sweet, or a spell?”

“Hm.” Luka leans against the counter, considering. Now that Chat is sitting so close, Luka can see that his lips are smudged with chocolate. “It looks like you’ve already had some sweets.”

“Only a few.”

Luka’s not sure he believes that. Chat doesn’t seem like the type of person to do things in moderation. “And you can’t go anywhere else for candy?”

“No!” Chat says, his tail standing indignantly behind him. “Marinette cut me off after my twelfth chocolate bar! It’s an injustice.”

Luka laughs. “I think I’m going to say you get a spell.”

Chat’s forehead scrunches up, and his lower lip curls into a pout. “You can’t do that,” he says. “Skeletons don’t cast spells.”

“I’m told I have magic guitar hands,” Luka says. “Does that count?”

“Oh, well, in that case.” Chat throws his head back and holds his hand to his forehead, as if he’s swooning. “Alas! I am enchanted. You’ve cast a wicked love spell on me.”

“A love spell?” Luka repeats, trying not to blush. He’d been prepared to tease Chat, but if Chat is here to flirt—well, Luka’s not too adept at that. He hopes he doesn’t say anything stupid.

“Ah, non,” Chat says. He leans forward and grabs Luka’s arm, eyes glimmering. “Now I can never leave. J’suis _fantômbé _amoureux.”

Ghost puns and declarations of love? There’s no doubt about it now—Chat is definitely flirting. Luka wonders what his goal is. Candy, probably. He doubts Chat is trying to woo him.

“Maybe I should have cast a spell to stop the bad puns,” Luka says.

“Bad?” Chat echoes, aghast. “Luka! I saved my good puns for you! Marinette got _bonbonjour._”

“Oh, wow,” Luka says, snorting. “Sorry, Chat. That’s pretty bad.”

Chat sighs. “I know. She threw a candy bar wrapper at me. I deserved it.”

For a moment, Luka manages to keep a straight face. Looking at Chat’s forlorn expression, though, he can’t stop himself from bursting into laughter.

“And now…” Leaning even closer, Chat traces a clawed finger up Luka’s arm. Even through the fabric of Luka’s shirt, Chat’s touch gives him goosebumps. “Here I am, charmed for eternity by an evil skeleton who won’t feed me.” He leans forward so far that he’s practically sprawled across the counter, then murmurs in Luka’s ear, “ It's a real tragedy, isn't it?”

“Very tragic,” Luka agrees, heart beating a little faster. “Aren’t you a little old for trick-or-treating, though?”

Chat pulls back and fixes Luka with wide, imploring eyes. “When I was nine, my father said I was too old for a ‘stupid American tradition’ like that.” He pouts again, his claws still stroking Luka’s arm. “Nine, Luka. I haven’t had candy in _years._”

Luka’s mouth twitches. He knows he’s fighting a losing battle—he’s almost always incapable of saying _no _to people, and that’s doubly true when the person asking him is a cute guy in black leather. “No candy at all?” Luka says. “I find that hard to believe, Chat.”

With a sigh, Chat says, “Okay. I haven’t had _other people’s _candy in years.”

Luka tries his best to ignore the feeling of Chat’s fingers drawing shapes on his arm. He’s not even sure Chat is conscious he’s doing it, but his touch is starting to send Luka into a trance. It’s steady and repetitive, like mantras for meditation; despite Luka’s growing blush, he finds himself being lulled into a strange sort of calm.

Over the years, Luka’s learned that music and touch are both languages based on nuance. In music, the same five notes can say twenty different things, depending on how they’re played. The same is true for communicating by touch: the weight of someone’s touch, the duration, the place they make contact, those all say different things. A touch of the hand could be meaningless, or it could be a declaration of love.

Usually, music and touch make more sense to Luka than words. Right now, though, Luka doesn’t know what Chat is trying to say. Chat’s casual touches seem too genuine in comparison to his fake swoons and dramatic clutches; it’s hard to write them off as part of his “love spell” joke.

Is this just how people flirt? Luka feels like banging his head off the counter in frustration. He doesn’t understand this sort of game.

“You’re quiet,” Chat says. “Have I put _you _under a spell?”

Luka wants to say _yes. _Despite his confusion when it comes to Chat’s emotions, he’s aware enough of his own feelings to know that he definitely has a crush on the superhero sitting across from him. He’s afraid to be too direct, though, so he doesn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Luka says, smiling. “But, Chat…why are you really here?” With a smirk, Chat opens his mouth to respond, but Luka holds up a hand, stopping him. “Besides trying to get candy, I mean. Someone as outgoing as you—I would have thought you’d be invited to a few parties.”

Chat’s fingers pause on Luka’s arm. “I was invited to one,” he says. “But…well, I wasn’t allowed to go. Père is pretty strict.” He offers Luka a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “The company’s better here, anyway.”

Luka had heard earlier that the same thing happened to Adrien. Although Luka has never formally met Gabriel Agreste, he’s always been concerned by how his strict parenting seems to affect Adrien. Sometimes, whenever Adrien thinks no one is looking, there are moments when his cheerful façade drops—the smiles disappear, and something weary overtakes his features, like clouds briefly passing over the sun.

It hurts Luka’s heart to see that same look on Chat’s face.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” he says.

Chat shrugs, eyes trained on the counter. His fingers move to Luka’s hand, tracing the bones painted on his skin. “It is what it is.”

“Well,” Luka says, “you’re welcome to stay here. I was just going to make popcorn and watch scary movies until my mom and sister get home.”

Frowning, Chat glances up at Luka. “You’re not going to any parties?”

“Nah, I’m not really big on partying. I prefer to stay home and relax.”

That’s not entirely true, though. While Luka doesn’t like parties, he also doesn’t usually pass up opportunities to spend time with his friends. In fact, he’d considered going to the party tonight, but it felt wrong knowing that Adrien wasn’t allowed to go. And even though Marinette was supposed to be there…well, Luka’s feelings toward her are complicated.

He likes Marinette, of course—as most of their mutual friends know, he has a giant crush on her. But lately, the fuzzy feeling he once felt in her presence has been replaced by gnawing anxiety. Even with music and touch, he can’t figure out where she stands. Her words are confusing, her actions contradictory, and every time they’re together, Luka gets stressed out trying to understand the bizarre thing between them.

So, no, the thought of spending time with Marinette wasn’t enough to overcome Luka’s distaste for partying.

“Parties aren’t that great, anyway,” Chat says, interrupting Luka’s thoughts. “But, so…I can watch scary movies with you? Really?” He bounces in his seat, claws tapping excitedly against the counter. “I’ve never had a movie marathon before. Are you sure I can stay?”

Luka laughs at Chat’s enthusiasm. “Well, it’s not like you have a choice.” He wiggles his fingers. “I have you under my love spell, remember?”

“Ah, yes. I almost forgot.” Chat sweeps Luka’s hand off the counter and brings it to his lips. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, mon amour.”

“I’m not complaining,” Luka says.

Chat drops Luka’s hand, his cheeks bright red. “Uh.”

Immediately, Luka regrets being so candid. This was what he’d been worried about—he never knows when to be sincere and when to tease, and it almost always leads to awkwardness.

But as he watches Chat rub the back of his neck, his pupils large and entire face light pink…well, Luka doesn’t completely regret his honesty. Chat is pretty cute when he blushes.

Smiling, Luka grabs the bowl of candy and moves to put it in the cupboard. That motion seems to snap Chat out of his daze, because he instantly jumps to his feet and scrambles around the counter.

“Wait!” he says, grabbing Luka’s arm. “Why are you putting those away? Can’t you spare a treat or two?”

“Or twelve?” Luka asks wryly.

“I’ll behave,” Chat says. “I won’t eat too many.”

“Is that what you told Marinette, too?”

Chat winks. “Possibly.”

With a sigh, Luka offers the bowl to Chat. “You know,” he says, “Ladybug’s not going to be happy that I gave her cat cavities.”

“I’m a stray,” Chat says, picking through the miniature chocolate bars. “I’m not anyone’s cat.”

That surprises Luka—he’d expected Chat to agree and say that he belongs to his lady. Aren’t the two of them a couple? At the very least, Luka’s pretty sure that Chat is in love with Ladybug. It seems odd that he’d suggest he’s on the market.

Chat plucks several peppermint chocolate candies from the bowl, then adds, “Though, if you _wanted _to adopt me, there’s just a small adoption fee.”

“Is it chocolate?” Luka guesses.

Grinning, Chat holds up his hand, candies pinched between his fingers. “Consider me yours.”

“My laptop’s on the couch,” Luka says, gesturing to the blue sectional across the room. “You can set it on one of those boxes.”

Chat nods, then grabs the candy bowl and carries it with him to the couch. Luka’s not surprised—he never really expected Chat to keep his promise of _I won’t eat too many._

Luka smiles as he retrieves a bag of popcorn from the cupboard and places it in the microwave. There’s something endearing about Chat’s wide-eyed excitement. Luka loves Halloween, of course, but he can’t recall the last time he got that excited about candy or movies.

And Chat’s enthusiasm is contagious, like a song that Luka can’t help but nod along to. He finds himself rocking onto the balls of his feet and back, impatient for the popcorn to finish popping.

“Whoa,” Chat says, when Luka sits next to him and sets the popcorn bowl between them. “Popcorn, candy, _and _movies? You’re spoiling me.”

Luka’s smile falters. Just how restricted is Chat’s social life, that he’s excited by something like this? Most teenagers wouldn’t bat an eye at eating junk food and watching movies.

He tries not to let his concern show, though. He wants Chat to enjoy himself.

Once Luka’s pulled up the first movie and hit _play, _he turns to study Chat. That profile—the shape of his nose, his cheekbones, his smile—it’s hard to tell with the mask in the way, but…

Luka tries not to think about this sort of thing too much, since he knows secret identities are secret for a reason; but still, there are times where he really can’t help but think that Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste. Aside from the physical similarities, they have too many other things in common: busy schedules, overbearing fathers, adorably bad puns. And of course, Adrien’s disappearances always line up with Chat Noir’s appearances. That seems too uncanny to be a coincidence.

Also, if Luka and Chat are friends on the other side of the mask, that would explain why Chat seems to take such an interest in him. Otherwise, the two of them haven’t interacted that much, and it’s strange that Chat would be so comfortable around a random civilian.

Belatedly, it occurs to Luka that if he really is sitting next to Adrien Agreste, then that means he’s sitting next to Adrien Agreste in a skintight leather cat costume.

Oh. Right. Maybe _that’s _why Luka tries not to think about Chat Noir’s secret identity too much.

Face burning, Luka turns to the laptop screen and tries to pay attention to the opening scene of the movie.

Throughout the first part of the movie, Chat continues to sneak chocolates from the candy bowl. It’s hard to tell just how many he’s eaten, though, since he throws the wrappers back into the bowl. Luka has a feeling the bowl is a lot emptier than it looks.

Luka doesn’t like candy that much, but he briefly considers the possibility of reaching into the bowl and orchestrating an “accidental” hand touch. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, though, he dismisses it as stupid. Even if he pulled it off, Chat would probably think it was weird and forced.

He reaches for the popcorn instead. As he does, his hand bumps into Chat’s.

“Oh!” Chat says, yanking his hand away. “Sorry. You first.”

Luka sees an opening. “And what if I wasn’t reaching for the popcorn?”

Chat makes a squeaking sound that’s more reminiscent of a mouse than a cat. “Then you, uh—missed the candy bowl?”

With a laugh, Luka shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Waggling his eyebrows, Chat leans across the bowl toward Luka. “Well, if you wanted to hold my hand, monsieur, all you had to do was ask.”

Luka silently curses Chat’s quick recovery. For a second, he’d thought he was on top of this flirting business. “I was reaching for the popcorn,” he admits.

Something briefly flashes through Chat’s eyes. With the sclerae, though, they’re not as easy to read as a human’s. “Well,” he says, leaning back. “I guess a cat shouldn’t get his hopes up.”

“Did you want me to hold your hand?” Luka asks.

“No,” Chat grumbles. He crosses his arms, tucking his hands beneath his armpits, and fixes his gaze on the laptop screen. “Of course not. If you hold my hand, I can’t eat any more candy.”

Chat’s words give Luka an idea. Maybe he can still salvage his failed attempt at flirting.

He waits for Chat to give in to temptation—and he doesn’t wait long, since Chat only lasts two scenes before reaching for the candy bowl again. When he does, Luka’s hand shoots out like a striking snake, grabbing Chat’s wrist and holding it tight.

Chat frowns. “Yes?”

Channeling calm, Luka raises his eyebrows. “I’m monitoring your sugar intake.”

Forehead creased, Chat tugs his hand down toward the candy bowl. In response, Luka threads his fingers through Chat’s, then holds up their joined hands.

“Luka,” Chat says. “I need my hand to grab candy.”

“I know,” Luka says. “You said that if I hold your hand, you can’t eat any more candy.” He nods to their hands. “This is me cutting you off.”

Chat stares at Luka like he’s stepped on his tail. “But—”

“Chat,” Luka says, “I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten half that bowl in less than an hour. Do you want to make yourself sick?”

“No,” Chat says. He stares at the bowl longingly. “Maybe just one more—”

“No more,” Luka says. “Not for a little while.”

Pouting, Chat leans back against the couch and goes back to watching the movie. “I could use my other hand, you know,” he mumbles.

“How would you unwrap the candy?”

Chat’s eyes flick over to Luka, then back to the laptop. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You could just move the bowl instead of holding my hand.”

Luka smiles and shrugs. “I could.”

For the rest of the movie, their hands rest together over the bowls of popcorn and candy. Luka tries not to overthink the feel of Chat’s fingers against his, and for the most part, he succeeds. He can feel his face burning with a blush, though. He hopes it’s not too visible in the dim light of the room.

The movie ends, and Luka pulls up the next one, still holding Chat’s hand. That ends about five minutes later, though, when the first jump scare sends Chat catapulting out of his seat with a yowl. Luka scrambles to stop the bowls from falling onto the ground.

“Sorry,” Chat says, ears flattened against his head. “I’m not scared this easily when I’m untransformed. I think it’s a cat thing.”

Luka pats Chat’s thigh. “It’s okay. I’ve seen these movies a dozen times, and they still make me jump sometimes.” He sets the candy and popcorn bowls on top of a nearby amp, just in case the movie makes Chat jump again. “Do you want me to warn you when the jump scares are about to happen?”

“No, no, I can handle it,” Chat says. “I’m a superhero. It takes more than special effects and sinister chords to scare me.”

Apparently it doesn’t, though, because the same thing happens again three scenes later. And when the monster appears for the first time, Chat dives toward Luka and buries his face in his shoulder.

“Zut,” Chat says. “Why does it have so many _teeth?”_

Luka wraps an arm around Chat’s shoulders and gives him a comforting squeeze. “Do you want to watch something less scary? I have _The Nightmare Before Christmas, _if you want.”

Chat shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

But he spends the next two movies cuddled up against Luka, knees pulled up to his chest, cheek resting on Luka’s shoulder. Whenever something scary happens—which is often, since they _are _watching horror movies—Chat turns his head and presses his nose to Luka’s neck, claws digging into Luka’s upper arm.

Luka doesn’t offer to stop the movies a second time. He figures that, for one reason or another, Chat wants to keep watching them. Whether that reason is that he’s trying to prove his bravery, or that he wants an excuse to cling to Luka…well, Luka can’t be sure, but he’s hoping it’s the latter.

At some point, Luka’s hand moves from Chat’s shoulder to his head, absentmindedly stroking his unruly hair. Sometimes, when his fingers move close to Chat’s ears, Luka swears he hears a quiet purr coming from Chat’s chest. He’s not sure that’s possible, though, so he thinks he might be imagining it.

Halfway through the third movie, it almost seems like Chat has fallen asleep. The last two jump scares have come and gone without causing any reaction, and from what Luka can see, it looks like Chat’s eyes are closed.

Lulled by the warmth of Chat’s body, Luka lets his eyes flutter shut. It’s not a good idea to fall asleep here, since he’s not sure how he’d explain this to his mother or sister, but Chat’s body is so warm and soft against his. Luka feels a little like he’s floating. There’s a song for this feeling, if he could just grasp it—except his thoughts are muddled, his brain fuzzy, and…

A beeping sound from his phone startles him awake. Groggily, Luka digs his phone out of his pocket and glances at his screen.

“Chat,” Luka says.

Blinking sleepily, Chat slowly sits up. “Huh?”

His hair is even messier than usual, which somehow makes him ten times cuter. Luka fights back the urge to run his fingers through it. “There’s an akuma,” he tells Chat.

Nodding, Chat sluggishly gets to his feet. Luka thinks he’s maybe moving a little too slowly for a superhero who’s just been told _there’s a villain you need to fight—_but then again, if someone had told Luka he had to abandon cuddling with Chat to go fight an akuma, he’d probably take his time, too.

“Ugh.” Chat stretches his arms above his head. “I guess I’d better go.” He leans over, reaching for the forgotten candy bowl. “A few more for the road—”

“Chat,” Luka says, touching Chat’s arm. “You’re going to get sick.”

Chat pulls his hand away and presses it to his chest. “But monsieur! I need something sweet, or else I won’t have enough energy to fight this akuma. I just woke up from a nap, you know.”

Oh, yes. Luka knows. Having a cute guy fall asleep on him has essentially turned his brain into a Barbara Hannigan _Mysteries of the Macabre _performance.

Trying to maintain a calm façade, Luka stands and grabs the candy bowl. “I think you have enough sugar in your system already,” he says, carrying the bowl to the kitchen.

“Hm,” Chat says. “Well, I suppose there’s something else sweet you could give me.”

Luka sets the bowl down, raising an eyebrow. He thinks he knows what Chat is implying, and it’s threatening to make his face turn bright red. “And what’s that?”

Chat taps his lips. “You see, it’s not _quite _as good as candy…”

“Are you talking about a kiss?”

With a wink, Chat says, “Your love spell is quite potent, Monsieur Couffaine. Or had you forgotten you charmed this cat?”

“You want me to kiss you so that you can fight the akuma?” Luka clarifies.

Outwardly, he’s as calm as ever: his voice is steady, his posture relaxed. Mentally, though, he feels like he just slammed into a brick wall. He thinks he must have fallen asleep on the couch and dreamed this up. Awkward guys like Luka don’t have their superhero crushes ask them for a good luck kiss. Not in real life.

“Well, you don’t _have _to.” Chat leans closer, hands clasped behind his back. “But it might help me fight a little bit better.”

Luka’s first thought is to step back and analyze the situation, the way he might if he was Viperion using Second Chance. Except he’s _not _Viperion right now, and there are a million ways this could go, and Luka has no way to explore any of those options.

His second thought is to follow his instincts. And his instincts say, _Why not? It’s Halloween! _

That excuse makes no sense—until it does. Because it’s Halloween, which means he’s not Luka Couffaine right now. He’s a magical skeleton. It makes perfect sense for him to kiss Chat Noir.

With a shrug, Luka grabs the back of Chat’s neck and pulls their lips together.

The kiss is slow, chaste—but it lasts several seconds, which makes it impossible for either one of them to claim it was a harmless peck. It’s enough time for Chat’s hands to grip Luka’s waist. It’s enough time for Luka’s fingers to run through Chat’s hair. And it’s enough time for Luka to decide that Chat’s candy addiction isn’t so bad after all, because it makes his lips taste like chocolate and peppermint.

Then Chat’s baton rings with a call from Ladybug, and Luka pulls back, lips tingling.

Chat stares at him as the call goes to voicemail. Luka’s black lipstick is smudged on his lips, and his mouth moves wordlessly for a few seconds until he manages to mutter something about _magic guitar lips._

Luka smiles. “I guess you should hurry and beat that akuma, before the sugar high wears off.”

Chat nods, then sprints toward the steps. He neglects to turn, though, and ends up running straight into the door.

“Chat!” Luka says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great!” Chat says, clutching his forehead. “Fantastic.”

Eyes covered, he turns to his right and trips up the stairs.

“Joyeuse Halloween!” Luka calls after him.

“YES,” Chat yells, as he bangs and thuds his way out of the Liberty. “C’est—ween—joyeuse! Lo. LOWEEN. _Hallow. _HALLOWEEN. JOYEUSE.” From the top of stairs, he says something else Luka doesn’t quite catch, though he’s pretty sure it’s _magic guitar lips _again.

Then Chat is gone, and the houseboat is silent once more.

Alone in the kitchen, Luka touches his lips. With burning cheeks and the taste of sugar on his tongue, he feels a little like _he’s _the one under a love spell. He’s not sure what else could have inspired him to kiss Chat Noir.

Smiling to himself, he takes a peppermint chocolate from the candy bowl. He doesn’t know exactly what’s come over him, but if it is a love spell…at least it’s a sweet one.

**Author's Note:**

> Luka: You didn’t try hard enough with your costume.  
Chat Noir, next year: [[x](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1gRKIcuuSBuNjSsziq6zq8pXaI/6606-Adult-Men-Sexy-Cosplay-Costumes-Navy-Sailor-Costume-White-Blue-Seaman-Uniform-Supper-Attractive-Police.jpg)]
> 
> And I know the Barbara Hannigan reference was obscure, but if you watch thirty seconds of [this performance](https://youtu.be/8ZKaMuALMMY?t=253) (which was in France, actually), you will understand exactly why I had to use it to describe Luka’s brain.
> 
> **Translations:**  
salut – hi  
Des bonbons ou un sort! – Trick or treat!  
J'suis tombé amoureux – I've fallen in love; fantôme – ghost  
bonjour – hello; bonbon – candy/sweet  
mon amour – my love  
zut – dang it  
Joyeuse Halloween! – Happy Halloween!


End file.
